


find your way back home

by daybr3aks



Category: Wanna One (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Royalty, Im so sorry recipient i tried, JUST EMOTIONAL CONSTIPATION, M/M, prince!jihoon, royal soldier! woojin, woojin comin home from war au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-30
Updated: 2017-12-30
Packaged: 2019-02-16 01:56:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13044102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daybr3aks/pseuds/daybr3aks
Summary: Maybe home wasn't the castle grounds or the small cabin in the woods they keep their secrets in. Maybe home was a person, and maybe Jihoon was Woojin's home just as he is his too.





	find your way back home

**Author's Note:**

  * For [brujsedbones](https://archiveofourown.org/users/brujsedbones/gifts).



 

 

> _“You just wanted to prove that there was one safe place, just_ _one safe place where you could love him._ _You have not found that place yet.” –Richard Siken_

 

❊

 

Jihoon likes the view by the balcony of his room the most.

It’s where he can take a glimpse of his sovereignty and the entirety of his kingdom in the best angle. Looking down, he’ll see the dwellings of his people, the trade and sell tents that have been set up at the square and the caravans that come and go. Glancing up, he can see the sky that spreads out above him, the sunset creating a painting of orange and red across the horizon.

Jihoon waits for sundown. He waits for the transition of bloodshot red to deep blue to that black void that seems to lure him in and consume him if not for the cluster of stars that dapple it that seems to keep his feet rooted on the ground. Jihoon waits for the guards to blow their trumpets and fall in line by the entrance gates of the kingdom, swords slowly being pulled out of their scabbards. He waits for that one loud hit of the gong before he finally lets out the breath he didn’t realize he was holding until then.

“Your Highness,” he hears someone call from behind him, and Jihoon turns around to meet his personal attendant, Daehwi, dressed in a more fancier attire than his usual black suit and tie. “The King has requested for your presence in the royal courtroom.”

Jihoon simply raises a brow, Daehwi’s stiff demeanor being a bit too suspicious, but he can feel his hands shake when he asks him, “Did something bad happen?”

Daehwi lift his head up from his greeting bow and looks at him with a mournful expression, and just when Jihoon was about to demand him for answers, he breaks into a grin and unabashedly winks at him.

“He’s alive and well, don’t worry.”

Jihoon lets out a sigh of relief, before shaking his head and adjusting the silk-woven cape that drapes behind him. Daehwi smiles as he fixes his fringe and sets the golden crown adorned with rubies and sapphires above his head.

The gong rings for the second time, the vibration louder this time, and then a series of drums beat in staccato followed by horns and trumpets and lyres.

The festival of the ninety-ninth sunset begins.

Jihoon turns to the door with a soft smile, a smile full of hope and longing and nostalgia. “Let’s go.”

 

It has been written down on the scrolls that fill up the shelves of the royal library. It has been in the tales of the Elders for as long as they can remember. The Kingdom of Gridora is located in the outskirts of the country, and right in the middle of the Twin Forests of Mnemosyne. Beyond the forests lies the Great Border, or the ginormous wall that separates the country from the warzone caused by a historical battle from centuries ago, and in that warzone is where the beasts breed.

The beasts are like dragons, but they’re not really dragons. They had the enormous sharp wings and scales, but aside from that, they look human. Up to this day, nobody still knows where these creatures had sprung up and no records could explain how they were formed. These beasts feed off of human flesh and only strikes during the night. The Kingdom of Gridora is very open to attacks from these beasts because of geography, so every year they send off a platoon of royal soldiers to guard the borders from the attacks and battle off beasts that seem threatening.

These soldiers come home once a year and stay for seven days before they go back to their posts, and this coming home event had been dubbed the festival of the ninety-ninth sunset since forever in honor of these heroes.

Jihoon looks forward to this day the most.

From the large glass windows at the side of the spiral staircase of his tower, he sees the guards raise up their unsheathed swords into the air and chant the royal mantra. Jihoon hears the trumpets being blown and then the hooves of horses after the crowd cheers and shouts names, names that Jihoon hasn’t heard in a while now.

And right as Jihoon lands on the last flight of stairs, he catches a glimpse of them.

The royal soldiers that were sent to the borders make their way towards the palace grounds on horses, some wounded, some bruised, but proud and happy and alive.

 _They’re here,_ Jihoon sighs. _He’s here._

_Even if it’s just for a short while._

 

❊

 

“This festival just keeps on getting fancier every year,” Seongwoo can’t help but comment as he waves at the crowd who has been cheering their names for a while now. “It’s either the kingdom is getting richer or they’re just guilty for sending us to our deathbeds 358 days a year.”

“Yeah, I feel like every year, there’s just new fancier food on that banquet table. I can’t wait to eat,” Daniel nods in agreement, a little unsteady since he’s riding a horse with his left hand on a cast.

“Goddamit, Niel, I didn’t mean the food,” Seongwoo sighs exasperatedly, but there’s a faint smile tugging on his lips. Minhyun and Jaehwan who had been listening to the conversation behind them laughs along, the two wrapped in bandages but the smiles on their faces bright and vibrant.

Woojin feels his heart warm up.

They’ve been through a lot the past eleven months. Their days have been filled with nothing but cold bloodbath and the mindset of just simply surving. It’s been hard for him and his team—the scarcity of food and medicine, the constant search for a temporary shelter to roof their heads during thunderstorms or just simply for a good night’s rest, and the need to stay alive for as long as they can.

There was no room for happiness when you’re a royal soldier sent off to the battlefield and offer your life for the kingdom’s sake. There was no safe haven. It has always been just fight and survive.

So seeing his team with wide smiles that reach their eyes and just casually playing around with each other—seeing them act like a regular group of friends, instead of just a team put together by the higher-ups talking about battle strategies—sends a wave of solace in him.

Woojin couldn’t be any happier.

“Race you to the banquet!” Seongwoo prompts as he sends his horse galloping in full speed, the crowd hurdling over them startled as they quickly back away.

“Hey no fair! I am a person with disability!” Daniel shouts back as he races after him, struggling with only one hand left to maneuver.

“That’s no excuse, ‘God Horsebackrider’,” Jaehwan retorts as he easily moves past him, cackling as he barely escapes hitting a tree.

Minhyun simply shakes his head as he rides beside Woojin, “Aren’t you gonna do anything about them, General? They’ll run over an innocent bystander at the rate they’re going, most likely Daniel.”

Woojin smiles fondly as he shakes his head, “Nah. Let them have fun. It’s been a while after all. You should loosen up too, hyung—“

“General Park?”

The two both turn around to the voice, and see a man in a purple silk-woven sash embroidered with gold, head donned with a beret a little too big for his head. He, too, is riding a horse, but it looks awkward and out of practice, like he still struggles even if he’s ridden one countless of times already. _A royal messenger._ A royal messenger Woojin knows all too well.

“I’ll go on ahead. We’ll see you at the banquet?” Minhyun asks as he pats him by the shoulder, to which Woojin simply nods off to. He nods right back at him before riding off after the other three who have probably reached the place by now.

“The King has ordered to see you. He, and the Crown Prince are waiting for you at the royal courtroom,” the royal messenger relays to him as he bows at him, loud enough for their unwanted audience to hear, but Woojin knows the underlying message when the messenger looks up and faintly smiles at him.

It’s how they’ve passed on messages to each other every single year, even before he was dubbed as war general.

Woojin smiles back at him, “Lead the way, Jinyoung.”

 

❉

 

Seongwoo was right when he said the kingdom just seems to turn fancier every single time they come back, Woojin thinks.

It takes a while to get to the palace grounds, but Woojin is fine with it since he gets to see the expanse of the Kingdom of Gridora and bask in the changes that he wasn’t able to witness himself. The kingdom just seems to grow progressively more and more every year. Woojin sees more buildings now, more permanent this time instead of the temporary lean-on tents that just come and go. The roads, too, are now safe to pass on for carriages and load wagons, compared to the past years. There just seems to be a lot of development happening nowadays, and Woojin thinks it has something to do with how the Crown Prince is now in charge most of the time these days.

Woojin can’t help but feel proud.

While the rest of the kingdom has changed up so much, the palace Woojin has gotten used to coming back to still looks the same as how it had always been when he had left last year, and how it had been when he first came here fifteen years ago.

The palace, even when he no longer stays there often, still feels like home.

The guards at the entrance open the double doors for him and Jinyoung, the grandeur of the palace’s interior greeting him immediately. Everything is still the same, all the details are still at the same places but Woojin can’t help but feel awe and amazement every single time.

“General Park,” he hears someone call out to him, and he turns around to see a familiar face, in the same familiar fancy blood red suit and tie, a velvet sash adorning it. Woojin chuckles.

“Do you seriously have to wear that every single time I come home?” he comments.

Daehwi just sticks out his tongue at him, before adjusting his necktie. “Palace regulations. I’m just doing my job, _sir_. Now, if you don’t mind, let’s step inside the courtroom. The King has been waiting.” He spins back to the direction of the courtroom, walking on ahead while Woojin and Jinyoung follow suit.

It’s nice to see familiar faces after so long, Woojin thinks. Daehwi and Jinyoung are one of the few constants in his life, the two having been present in his life for a long time now. Daehwi was the Crown Prince’s royal attendant, while Jinyoung serves as the royal messenger. The three have worked for the royal family almost their entire lives, and since they’ve been around each other for so long now, they found trust and friendship in between service to the royal family and the nights when they used to sneak out of the palace even when they were not allowed to do so.

Daehwi opens another pair of large intricate etched doors, before turning to him with a smile that Woojin needed no words to know what it meant. He feels his hands go clammy, his legs seemingly turning wobbly all of a sudden, and his heart about to rip out of his chest.

He’s been waiting for this day all year. This was the day he had looked forward to the most, the day that motivated him to tighten his hold on his sword and fight for his life. But he can’t help the feeling of nervousness that courses through him now that he’s standing in front of this door. It’s always like this every year.

Because it has been a year. So many things can happen in a year. So many changes, some for the better and some for the worst. Some you’d see clearly, and some you wouldn’t notice until it hits you in the gut all of a sudden and you’re dawned up with the realization.

Daehwi steps in first. Woojin sees him bow to the ones in front of him, the “Your Highness, General Park Woojin is here,” ringing loud and clear in his ears. It isn’t until Jinyoung pats him in the shoulder that he can finally feel his legs move to the direction of the courtroom.

King Jisung’s smile is what greets him first, the same fatherly smile Woojin sees drawing on his lips every single chance he gets to meeting him. He’s thinner now compared to when he had last seen him, age now evident in his face along with the shade of gray and white that paints his hair, but he still has that warmth. The warmth that got the people of Gridora to love him, the warmth that made him keep his crown.

“Woojin, welcome home,” Jisung says, eyes crinkling as he slowly stands up from where he sat at the high chair by his throne and smiles at him. “I’m glad you came back safely.”

Woojin gives him the courtesy bow first, before looking up to grin back at him, “I’m also glad to be home, Your Highness.”

“Now, how many times have I told you to just call me Uncle when it’s just us?” Jisung gives him a hearty laugh. “How was patrolling the borders this year? I’m thankful a lot of you came back alive, so you must’ve brought along with you good news as well, am I right?”

Woojin nods, “I’m not exactly sure if you can call this good news, but yes, there is lesser beast activity this year. However, we’ve been getting a lot of attacks from the northern tribe nowadays. The soldiers assume that the Northerners have been hoarding these beasts to train them for war, but it’s too early to accuse them of such without any proper evidence.”

“Ah, there’s always bad news in exchange for good ones, I see,” Jisung nods. “Yes, it’s wrong to accuse the Northerners of plotting war against us, but it’s better to stay on high alert. Let’s discuss this on a general meeting with the soldiers after the welcoming ball. Is that okay?”

“Of course, Your Highness.”

“Sire,” the two turn their heads to Daehwi’s voice by the door. What Woojin’s eyes catch first is the familiar mop of bleached blond hair, and the mismatched pattern of his unsteady heartbeat, when Daehwi continues with, “The Crown Prince is here.”

It’s strange, he thinks. How Woojin has been waiting for this moment all year, how every single day spent before this day was of him wishing on shooting stars and praying to the gods for time to accelerate and lead to this moment faster. But now that this time has come, now that he’s facing the epitome of the reason he had wanted this day to come sooner, Woojin has no idea what he’s supposed to do.

Now that Woojin is finally facing Jihoon, it’s as if his mind has gone blank and all it can register is the fact that Jihoon is now standing in front of him, looking just as beautiful as he had last seen him.

Jihoon, with his eyes that seem to have been made out of stardust and the vast universe swimming in his irises that makes Woojin feel like he’s drowning in them. Jihoon, with his rose-colored lips and saccharine smile that never fails to get Woojin up his toes. Jihoon, with his everything that Woojin has come to love and long for every passing day.

He feels his heartbeat drop, and then speed up.

“Ah, Jihoon, come here,” Jisung calls out to his brother with a wave of his hand. “General Park has just arrived. Welcome him back.”

Their eyes meet for a moment, Jihoon glancing towards his direction briefly before he starts walking towards them. Jihoon turns to him fully this time, although with his face remaining passive, Woojin sees the soft glint in his eyes that just seems to warm him up to his toes.

“Welcome back,” Jihoon gives him a small bow of the head, and Woojin returns the gesture, although a little more awkward. “I’m glad you and your troupe have made it home safely.”

“Yes, Your Highness,” Woojin barely manages to squeak out. When he lifts his head up, he sees Jihoon still staring at him, the eyes holding the cosmos directed at him as if he was a star out of orbit.

Jisung claps his hands together, “Well now, the welcoming ball will start in a few. Woojin, go rest up a bit before then. I’m sure you’re tired from your journey,” he gives him a gentle pat on the shoulder before turning to Jihoon. “Hoon, why don’t you come with me to check up on the ball preparations?”

Jihoon nods at him in response, and with that, Jisung gives Woojin a quick goodbye and a ‘see you later’ before walking on ahead out of the courtroom. It’s only when he’s finally out of sight that Jihoon moves, but not before tugging Woojin by the arm and whispering to his ear softly, his breath tickling Woojin’s senses like mad.

“You know where to find me later,” and with that, Jihoon steps out of the room, leaving Woojin smiling widely like the fool at the town square.

The people always wondered why the crown prince rarely shows up to social events, especially the welcoming ball of the Festival of the Ninety-ninth Sun. Woojin’s troupe always thought he hated parties, that’s why he never comes to the ball either.

They don’t know about the secret place, or the nights the two spend alone, or the secrets and promises  exchanged with only the moon and the starlit sky as witnesses. They don’t know why Woojin looks forward to the night of the welcoming ball the most nor do they know why Jihoon takes extra time fixing himself up, when they never even show up to the ball itself.

The palace of the Kingdom of Gridora holds too many secrets. Jihoon and Woojin’s story is just one of them.

 

❉

 

Jihoon clearly remembers being cursed at by a certain dark-haired boy the first night they met.

It was back when they were both eight, the night of Jisung’s inauguration as ninety-eighth King of Gridora. The party was at full swing, girlish giggles and manly guffaws being exchanged over wineglasses filled to the brim and the orchestra playing music in the background with just the right amount of festive.

Jihoon never liked parties, even as a kid. Not only was it too suffocating for him, being surrounded with all these people he doesn’t recognize by face, much more by name, there’s also the fact that he’s always the only child in the mix every single time. It gets tiring and boring, which is why he always sneaks out at every chance he gets.

The moon was bright that night, and the sky was dotted with stars that seem to pull him in, which Jihoon vaguely remembers to be the reason why he had climbed that tree for in the first place. Just as he reached the branch that seems to give the best view of the starlit evening sky and a perfectly good hiding spot from the guards that have been circling the palace grounds in search of him, Jihoon sees him.

Underneath the moonlight, the boy looked like a dream.

That thought only lasted for a few seconds though, because afterwards, the boy screamed at his face the moment their eyes met.

“Who the fuck are you?”

It would be an understatement to say Jihoon was pissed.

“I am Jihoon, the Prince of Gridora,” eight-year old Jihoon announces. “And little kids should not be heard cursing. That’s what my mother told me.”

The boy rolls his eyes at him, “I don’t care. Hop off, I found this tree first.”

“And who might you be?” Jihoon shoots back. “I am the Prince. This tree is within my palace grounds. It’s mine!”

“No, it’s not. It doesn’t have your name on it. Now leave,” Woojin retorts, shoving him slightly. “You’re gonna get me caught.”

“Are you hiding? Did you do something wrong?” Jihoon inquires, not moving an inch even when the boy is already sending him icy glares.

“No, I didn’t. Leave now,” the boy tells him again, and visibly jolts up when they hear someone shout a name. From their high position, Jihoon sees Sungwoon, one of his older brother’s royal attendants.

“Is that Sungwoon hyung?”

“ _Shhhh!”_ the boy hisses, “Stop talking!”

“Aha! You did do something wrong!” Jihoon exclaims, the thought of catching a possible bad guy sparking up a sliver of pride in his childish mind. He quickly shifts his head to the direction of the royal attendant who seems to be in the midst of searching for the boy in front of him. “Sungwoon hyung! Sungwoon hyung, he’s here! The brat you’re looking for is here!”

“Ya, what are you doing?” the boy visibly panics, quickly moving his hand up to cover Jihoon’s mouth but Jihoon easily peels it off him and continues to scream. “You idiot! Stop it! Ya!”

The boy reaches over to him to hold him down, but Jihoon quickly avoids the arms advancing towards him, the action causing both of them to lose balance and the next thing they know, they’re both falling down from the tree branch in an alarming speed. He closes his eyes

Jihoon thinks he’s gonna die at the ripe age of 8.

But then he doesn’t. He feels arms wrapped over the small frame of his upper torso and a warm palm resting at the back of his head, and then he’s suddenly on the ground without even feeling the pain of the impact of the fall, or the roughness of the earth.

“Oh my god, kids! What happened?” Jihoon hears Sungwoon ask as he makes his way towards them.

He opens his eyes, only to be greeted immediately by a pair of brown ones that remind him of the hot chocolate his mother makes for him every winter morning, eyes that seem to give off the same kind of warmth the drink brings him as well. It’s only when the boy groans in pain that he realizes that he had cushioned Jihoon’s fall.

Jihoon immediately gets off of him and tends to him, “Oh good lord, are you okay?”

“We just fell off a tree, do you honestly think I’m okay?” the boy answers back as he slowly gets up, wincing. “Just great, I think I broke a bone or something.”

“Oh my god, I’m so—“

“Woojin-ah, what are you doing? Where are your manners?” Sungwoon interrupts as he quickly pulls the boy up and dusts the dirt off his clothes. The royal attendant turns to him. “Your Highness, I am so sorry for my nephew’s crude behavior. He only just arrived from the West, and has not been lectured yet with the proper etiquette one must show towards a noble. I am deeply sorry for this inconvenience.”

“No, no,” Jihoon quickly shakes his head. “It was my fault. He saved me.”

“I’m sure he was the one who put you through this trouble in the first place, knowing him,” Sungwoon sighs as he nudges the boy—Woojin—“Apologize now.”

Woojin huffs, “Why should I? You heard what he said, I saved him—“

Sungwoon smacks him in the head, and repeats through gritted teeth, “Apologize.”

“I’m sorry,” Woojin tells him exasperatedly, clearly not meaning it but Jihoon takes no offense from it.

“Now introduce yourself to him.”

Woojin sighs, before giving him an overexaggerated bow, “Deepest apologies, Your Highness, for not introducing myself ahead of time. My name is Park Woojin, and I’ll be your personal bodyguard starting from today.”

Jihoon knew by then that everything was no longer going to be the same ever again.

Everyone in the palace had predicted Woojin and Jihoon to never get along. Everyone in the palace had placed bets on how long Woojin will last before Jihoon plans to get rid of him. Woojin was a rowdy boy; Jihoon was just as stubborn. Two negatives repel each other, that’s what everyone thought.

It took them years. Years of Jihoon barking orders at him, and Woojin just rebutting them with snarky remarks and eyerolls. Years of them shouting at each other when they were merely a few centimeters apart. Years of fighting, years of arguing, years of spite.

But somewhere along the way, Jihoon had built an unexpected dependence on Woojin that he would never admit to his face. Somewhere along the way, Jihoon had found himself looking for Woojin immediately the moment he wakes up, asking for Woojin’s presence for reasons unknown.

Somewhere along the way, Jihoon goes through the realization that the petty fights he picks with Woojin had simply been a wall built to mask the underlying emotions that had piled up throughout the years he had spent by Woojin’s side.

Because even through the numerous “I hate you”s he has thrown Woojin’s way, Jihoon can’t seem to let him go.

He realizes this fully the night before Woojin was about to leave, the first time he becomes a royal soldier tasked to patrol the borders, both of them nineteen at that time. Jihoon remembers being asked why he had protested Woojin’s ‘promotion’, only leading to him barely uttering a response because he, too, doesn’t know why.

He remembers being too out of focus that night, spacing out during dinner and during the royal meeting with Jisung and their father, and when he unexpectedly bumps into Woojin at the royal garden, right by the tree where they had first met when they were eight, his mind just simply short circuits.

“Are you really leaving?” Jihoon asks him before he could even stop himself.

“Worried I might die?” Woojin jokes.

“Yes.”

Woojin was obviously taken aback by his response, eyes wide and blinking fast as he stares into Jihoon’s glassy ones. Jihoon’s eyes have always been like that—they shine all the time that it always seems like he’s in the brink of his tears, so Woojin’s not too sure if Jihoon really was about to cry then.

Jihoon was, in fact, close to tears then, the worry he had spent the entire night pushing back down his system springing up beyond his control now that Woojin was standing in front of him, looking like an absolute Greek god with his hair styled up like this and the royal soldier uniform hugging his body perfectly.

“Hm, this is new,” Woojin tries to comment nonchalantly, but Jihoon can feel the unsteadiness of his tone. “You being worried about me. You always seem like you want me dead.”

“Come back alive, please,” Jihoon tells him—more like pleads to him. “Promise me you’ll come back alive. Promise me you won’t die.”

Woojin stares at him, and Jihoon feels like hellfire, feels like he’s running short of breath as Woojin’s eyes seem to soften at each passing moment.

“Is that an order, Your Highness?” Woojin breathes out as he steps forward, the proximity probably enough for him to hear the rampant beating of Jihoon’s heart, and his breath hitching when his eyes land on Woojin’s lips.

“Yes.”

Woojin smiles softly at him, “Then your wish is my command.”

The night was supposed to pass on after that. Nothing was supposed to come after that. Jihoon had bared himself open to Woojin more than enough at that moment, but Jihoon finds himself wanting to bare more of him, as his hand searches for Woojin’s, as if it was the last time he can hold his hand like this.

Jihoon intertwines their fingers together.

“Do you have something else you want me to do, sir?” Woojin asks him in a whisper, like he knows already what Jihoon wants, like he already knows what Jihoon is thinking and what he is feeling.

Like Woojin feels what he’s feeling as well.

Jihoon lifts his head up at his words and looks him in the eye, all the years worth of emotions he had tried to bury down resurfacing and relayed to Woojin with just two words, “Kiss me.”

Woojin does, like he has been waiting for him to say that this whole time. Like he has been waiting for years for Jihoon to say that.

 

 

❉

 

It doesn’t surprise Jihoon that Woojin knows where he meant when he had told him to find him later, nor does it surprise him that he knows just when to come find him even without Jihoon telling him. Woojin knows. He always knows.

“This tree is so old now,” is the first thing Woojin says as he makes his way towards him, the soldier now rid off of the battle gear he had worn earlier in the day in exchange for a simple white sleeved shirt and a pair of pants. His eyes move from the branches of the tree over to Jihoon who had been eyeing him this whole time. “Hello, Your Highness. You’re looking as grumpy as ever.”

“Shut up,” is all Jihoon says as he starts walking on ahead towards the East.

He has memorized this path now at the back of his hand, that even if he were to walk here blind, he would still reach his destination on time. He always comes here everyday, his feet having gotten used to the earth it walks on and where it leads to. Woojin follows him closely from behind, filling in the silence with stories from the year they had spent apart.

“—and then Daniel just screams ‘get this fucking gremlin off of my leg oh my fucking god’, when it was only just Seongwoo covered in mud, asking for help and—“

“Woojin, stop talking,” Jihoon shushes him, before lighting up an oil lamp, and it’s only when the flame illuminates the room that Woojin realizes where Jihoon had taken him. His eyes soften as he glances over Jihoon who was now busy avoiding his gaze.

“I can’t believe this place is still in good condition,” Woojin muses.

Jihoon had taken him to the cabin his grandfather had lent over to him as a secret hiding spot, in case Jihoon wanted to be left alone. In case Jihoon wanted to find a place he can call his own.

Jihoon had shared this place with Woojin the night before he first left. It’s not his alone now; it’s theirs.

He doesn’t tell him that it’s in good condition because he comes here everyday. He doesn’t tell him that coming here makes him miss him less, that this place had given him the comfort he needed the nights he longs for Woojin’s presence.

“I miss this place,” Woojin tells him, but his eyes are on Jihoon’s. “And I miss you.”

“Don’t lie,” Jihoon retorts, but his face is now a deep shade of crimson, his ears burning to the tips. “I’m sure you had a lot of girls fawning over you while you were away.”

Woojin snorts, “Yeah. Tons of female monsters who’d like to have my head for a snack. Real’ ego-boosting. Can’t you just say you missed me too?”

 _I miss you_ , Jihoon wants to say it so bad. _I miss you so fucking much that every single day of waiting for you to come home feels like a millennium._

But what comes out of his mouth instead are, “Did you get hurt?”

“No,” Woojin shakes his head. “Your Highness told me to come home unscathed, so I came home unscathed,” he mocks salutes him with a wink.

Jihoon rolls his eyes as he reaches over to grab the hem of Woojin’s shirt and lifts it up, the sudden action making the latter flustered.

“Ya! Crown Prince Jihoon, second son of the Kingdom of Gridora, what are you doing?” Woojin yelps, arms crossed over his chest. “Don’t you think it’s still too early in the night for this?”

Jihoon stares at him for a brief moment, before scrunching his face and punching him in the arm, “You nasty idiot, just take your shirt off.”

“Your Highness, you ask too much from me—“

“If you don’t take off your shirt at the count of three, I’m leaving and you’re never gonna see me again the whole week you’re back here. Now one—“

Woojin immediately takes off his shirt before Jihoon could even finish, the prince faintly smiling at the thought that Woojin did want to see him, just as much as he did, but the smile drops when he sees the bandages wrapped around his stomach, a red blot big enough to worry about painting it that makes Jihoon sure that that wound is new and fresh.

“You idiot,” is all Jihoon could let out.

“It’s nothing serious, okay? Don’t worry too much,” Woojin assures him. Jihoon keeps his head low. “Don’t worry, really. It doesn’t even hurt that much.” He tries to reach out a hand to him but Jihoon slaps it away.

“You idiot,” Jihoon repeats. When he lifts his head up, Woojin is surprised to see his eyes filled with tears. “I told you not to get hurt, didn’t I? I told you to fucking stay out of danger. I told you to—“

He is cut off when Woojin pulls him by the arm and engulfs him in a tight hug. Woojin’s hand finds it way towards the back of Jihoon’s head, stroking his hair lightly.

“I’m alright. Please stop crying, Ji,” he whispers, Jihoon’s head buried in his chest. “I’m alive, aren’t I? I’m sorry I couldn’t keep my promise of coming home unscathed, but I’m here now, aren’t I? I’m breathing fine, I’m living fine, please stop crying.”

“I don’t want you to get hurt,” Jihoon whispers back. “I didn’t wait for three hundred days and miss you like crazy just for you to get hurt like this.”

Woojin smiles before pulling out of the hug, his arms still around Jihoon, as he looks him in the eye. It’s still the same shade of brown that reminds him of the hot chocolate his mother used to make him during winter mornings. It’s still the same pair of eyes that sends Jihoon the same kind of warmth nostalgia brings him.

“So you did miss me,” Woojin teases, his grin wide enough to outshine the oil lamp that solely illuminates the room.

Jihoon rolls his eyes, now feeling a tad better. “Don’t think too much about it.”

“But I will think too much about it,” Woojin shoots back. “I’ll never stop thinking about it. I’ll think about it every waking moment of my life. I’ll think about it everyday before I go to bed. I’ll never ever stop thinking that _the_ Crown Prince of Gridora missed me like crazy.”

“Oh my god, shut up,” Jihoon says, but he’s smiling.

“So,” Woojin says as he lets Jihoon go, clasping his hands together. “What’s on today’s welcome back itinerary? I’ve been looking forward to this for an entire year, this better be special.”

Jihoon can’t help the warmth spreading through his veins at the mention of Woojin looking forward to this annual meet-up with him just as much as he did. Jihoon moves towards one of the cupboards by the makeshift kitchen inside the cabin and pulls out a picnic basket before heading back to where Woojin had comfortably sat at the center of the room, a plaid blanket laid out underneath him.

“Of course, it’s special, you ungrateful brat. It’s me after all,” Jihoon says as he lifts up the basket for Woojin to see before setting it down and sitting across from where he is. “I cooked.”

“No way.”

“Yes way. You can ask Daehwi yourself. He taught me,” Jihoon says proudly.

“Did you set the kitchen on fire on the process? I bet you spilled over a pot too. And make something explode, yeah, that definitely happened as well. And—“

Jihoon punches him in the arm, Woojin quickly yelling an ‘ow’. “I’ll have you know I did just fine. No mess, no setting the kitchen on fire, and definitely no explosions either.”

“I find that very hard to believe.”

“You’re just jealous, because I can now cook while you can’t.”

Woojin scoffs, like he’s offended, “Huh, Your Highness, with all due respect, I’ll have you know that I am, in fact, capable of whipping up a gourmet meal like any star quality chef.”

“Bet I’m still better than you anyway,” Jihoon snorts.

“Is that a challenge?” Woojin prompts. “Should I cook for you tomorrow then?”

“That would be lovely, General Park,” Jihoon replies as he opens up the containers of food he had prepared for tonight. “Now, feast your eyes on all these masterpieces.”

“You made meat pie,” Woojin comments blankly, “And soup. Everyone knows how to make soup, sir.”

“Wow, some grateful guy you are.”

“So I’ve been told,” Woojin laughs as he takes a spoonful of the pie Jihoon had prepared into his mouth. He pauses for a moment afterwards, the silence stretching a bit too long that Jihoon starts to worry.

“Okay, fine,” Jihoon admits, lifting his hands up. “So it’s not much of a masterpiece, I’m fully aware. Now say it, say it’s not good. Say that it tastes awful, it’s alri—“

“But it’s good though.”

Jihoon blinks as he watches Woojin take a bite of the meat pie and then another. “What?”

“It’s good!” Woojin exclaims, his mouth full of food that his voice comes out muffled.

Jihoon finds that very hard to believe. He was only bluffing earlier. He knows his cooking was below average, with him only starting to learn just recently, and Woojin saying that it’s good sounds too suspicious, so he snatches the pie from Woojin’s grasp and takes a mouthful for himself.

“Hey—“

“You liar!” Jihoon shouts as he quickly stands up to get himself a glass of water. “It’s so salty, and I’m not even sure if the meat was cooked properly. What do you mean it’s good? How could you eat this stuff?”

“Well, you made it,” Woojin says as he picks up the pie tray again and takes another bite. “If you made it, then it’s good.”

Jihoon hands him a glass of water. “Please stop eating that, you’ll get an upset stomach. Just say it to my face that it’s horrible. It’s fine. Let’s just go get food inside.”

“No way,” Woojin says as he picks up the vegetable soup this time. “I bet you spent a lot of time making this. You did, didn’t you?”

Jihoon bites down on his lower lip. He did spend a good few hours just preparing for their little picnic tonight, and from the silence he gets as a response, Woojin assumes he was right. He continues to take spoonfuls of the food Jihoon has prepared for him.

“There are also those cuts on your fingers. Did you think I wouldn’t notice?” Woojin comments as he gobbles up the remains of the soup. Jihoon blinks at him in surprise. He did think Woojin wouldn’t notice. He quickly hides his hands behind his back on reflex, but Woojin is quick to grab them after he sets the soup bowl down.

Woojin strokes the cuts on Jihoon’s fingers with his thumbs, the touch sending volts coursing through him. Jihoon watches as Woojin continues to stare and touch them wordlessly, the sight of Woojin’s fringe hooding his eyes and his eyelashes making him short of breath. Woojin was and still is so goddamn beautiful.

“Did you get these cuts while cooking?” Woojin asks softly, Jihoon’s breath hitching when he suddenly looks up.

“The new ones, yes,” Jihoon mutters in response lowly. “The ones that are starting to heal, I got them when I was learning a few days ago.”

“And you wanted to learn,” Woojin takes a deep breath before he continues. “Because?”

“Because I wanted to cook for you,” Jihoon answers without a moment’s hesitation, the tips of his ears burning but his heart racing and fully contented.

“Because?” Woojin repeats, barely audible, this time intertwining their fingers together. Jihoon thinks his heart might just burst out of his chest sometime soon.

“Because I wanted to do something special when you come back,” Jihoon breathes out, Woojin now staring at him fully in the eyes that Jihoon thinks he might just drown in them.

“Because?”

Jihoon smiles softly, as soft as how Woojin is smiling at him now too.

“Because you’re special to me.”

Jihoon knows. He knows that if people found out about them, about what they were and how much Woojin meant to him, he’ll probably never see him again. Not only will he lose the one person who had become his world, he’ll also lose the sense of freedom and solace only Woojin can give him.

But it has not been written in the scriptures that have been passed on throughout time. It has not been dictated by the Elders, nor has it been stated in the stories from the olden. That a man can fall in love with a man. That a prince can fall in love with a servant. It has not been heard of before in the walls of the kingdom, from the mouths of the people.

But Jihoon wasn’t with the people at this moment. Tonight, he is with Woojin. Tonight, he’s with him in this cabin somewhere beyond East Woods, away from the palace, away from the people. He’s with Woojin, and with him, Jihoon can let go of the crown and the heavy weight it carries along with it for a moment. With Woojin, he can forget about being a prince for a while. With Woojin, he can be himself.

With Woojin, he can say everything he wants to say. No restrictions, no limitations.

Woojin stands up, his right hand still locked with Jihoon’s that the latter is sent standing up too. “Let me take you somewhere.”

“You have things planned for tonight too?” Jihoon asks as they both step out of the cabin, the evening sky spreading above them with millions of stars twinkling like fireflies.

“You’re not the only one with three hundred days left to plan something special for someone special,” Woojin grins at him as he tightens his grip on his hand. “Follow me.”

Woojin leads him to an unfamiliar path, Jihoon thinking Woojin had actually gotten the both them lost since all he’s been seeing for the past fifteen minutes are just trees and more trees. When he thinks his doubts have reached the peak, Jihoon finally sees the end of the forest, and when Woojin turns to him with a smile so bright that it might as well replace the moon above them, Jihoon knows they’ve reached their destination.

“We’re here,” Woojin says as he steps back to let Jihoon see the view that awaits him.

What Jihoon sees first are lights, a thousand lights in soft glows of orange and yellow seemingly floating like fireflies underneath them, and it’s only a few moments later that he realizes that Woojin had taken him to a cliff, a cliff overlooking the entirety of the Kingdom of Gridora. A place that had a much better view than his stuffy palace tower can ever give.

The kingdom stretches beneath them, the distance making it seem like Gridora seem small, making it seem like they were far away from Gridora, far away from everything else that seems to be holding them down.

“Beautiful, huh?” Woojin says from beside him.

“Yeah,” Jihoon breathes out in awe. “It’s beautiful, Woojin. How’d you even manage to find this place?”

“I come here often back when I was a kid,” Woojin answers as he picks up a rock and throws it down the cliff, the fall seemingly endless. “My father showed this to me first. He says this was where he had asked my mother to marry him.”

“Oh,” was all Jihoon could let out. He didn’t expect the place to have this much of a connection to Woojin’s personal’s life, and the fact that Woojin had brought him here, brought him to a place that could’ve meant so much to him, send him a wave of warmth no words could ever do justice on explaining.

“Why did you bring me here?” Jihoon couldn’t help but let his curiosity take over.

There’s a short pause, before Woojin turns to him with eyes as soft as the moonlight and a smile as bright as the stars dotting the sky.

“My father told me to bring the person that was special enough for me to give my whole life to here,” Woojin replies, eyes not leaving Jihoon’s. “He told me if I wanted to marry someone, I should bring that person here first.”

Jihoon is at a loss for words, and his heart feels like it’s closing in on him that he’s having a hard time breathing. Here was Woojin, the boy he thought he hated back when he was a kid but soon realized meant to him a whole lot more when he was about to lose him, the boy Jihoon can’t stop thinking about every single day and every single night, the one boy who could bring about a thunderstorm of emotions him at the same time the only one that could calm him down. Here was the one boy he wouldn’t mind waiting for his whole life, indirectly telling Jihoon that he wants to marry him.

Jihoon is as happy just as he is hurting.

“Woojin, what are we?” he couldn’t help but ask. Woojin smiles at him sadly.

“Whatever you want us to be.”

They’ve never really established anything, never brought about what they really were. Woojin has told him countless of times how much Jihoon means to him. Jihoon has told him already so many times before just how special Woojin was to him as well, but they’ve never set whatever it was that’s going on in between them. There was never anything concrete, just abstract words and tangled feelings.

Jihoon has heard Woojin say he cares for him. Woojin has heard him call him special. Woojin has told him everything he had wanted to hear from him, everything but the three words he needed. The three words that bear more weight than all the other words combined.

 “I want to be with you,” Jihoon tells him firmly, eyes not leaving Woojin’s own. “Hell, Woojin, I want to be with you so bad.”

“But you can’t,” Woojin continues for him with a sad smile.

“We can’t,” Jihoon gives it back, tears starting to rim his eyes that his vision starts to get blurry. “Soon, you’re gonna have to leave again, with the uncertainty of you surviving for another year. Soon, I’ll be king of Gridora and have even more eyes on me, even lesser freedom than what I have now. We can’t, Woojin. We can’t.”

“But do you want to?” Woojin asks him, a hand cupping the side of Jihoon’s face to wipe away the stray tears with his thumb. “Do you want to be with me?”

 “Of course.”

“I want to be with you too, Ji,” Woojin tells him. “If I asked you to marry me now, right here, will you?”

The question takes Jihoon by surprise. “Woojin, what are you—“

Before Jihoon could even finish, Woojin gets down on one knee, the same soft smile still curling up his lips as he looks at Jihoon in the eye and continues, “Your Highness, I know our future is bleak and the longevity of my life bears too much uncertainty, but if I were to tell you that I would pay no heed to any of those and only think of what lies in front of me now, of the present that I am standing now with you, would you believe me when I say we could make this work?”

“Woojin—“

“Yes, I know I won’t be beside you every minute of the day. I won’t be with you during moments when you’re at your happiest, or during the times when you cry. I’ll miss important highlights of your life. I’ll miss every special moment that’ll mean most to you,” Woojin pauses for a moment, and it’s only when he sees his shoulders raise up and down slightly that Jihoon realizes he’s holding back his tears. “But will you believe me when I tell you that even so, in a way, I’m still here for you? That wherever you are in this world, whatever distance that is going to divide us, I’ll always be here for you?”

Woojin then looks up, and it’s when he sees Jihoon blinking back tears that he loses control over his own.

“Will you believe me that no matter where we are in this world, you’ll always be in my heart, and I’ll always be in yours?”

Jihoon nods, when he can’t seem to find his voice.

“Do you love me?” comes Woojin’s next question.

“Yes,” Jihoon answers in a heartbeat, voice broken.

Woojin smiles, “The universe has odd ways of tying red strings. They made us meet when we didn’t want to, and made us separate when we finally figured out why they had brought us together in the first place,” he says as he stands up and steps forward, slowly closing the distance between them. “But we can make it work, because you love me and I… I love you, Jihoon. Always had, and always will.”

There it is. The only three words Jihoon had needed him to say. The only words Jihoon needed to erase his doubts and fears.

Woojin takes both of Jihoon’s hands towards his lips, kissing them softly as he closes his eyes, before turning to look at Jihoon again who’s already staring at him.

“Even when we have to hide from the world our entire lives. Even when the only ones who’ll know that you love me as much as I love you are the moon and the stars,” Woojin breathes out, eyes now on Jihoon’s lips as he presses their foreheads together. “Do you believe we can make it work?”

“Yes.”

Woojin gives Jihoon a kiss on the nose, before asking again, “Then will you, Prince Jihoon, second son of Gridora, marry me, a mere war general?”

“You’re more than just a mere war general,” Jihoon tells him. “You’re my home. You’re the only one I want  to be with forever.”

“That’s a yes, right?”

“What do you think?”

Woojin grins before closing the gap between their lips, feeling the corners of Jihoon’s lips tug up into a smile too sometime in between. He kisses Jihoon like time wouldn’t wait for them. Like he only has tonight. Like he’ll only have Jihoon tonight.

“Wherever I’ll end up being in this world, I’ll always find my way back to you,” Woojin whispers.

 

 

The future is bleak. It’s dark, and unsteady, and filled with uncertainties. Years pass, and everything repeats like a cycle. “I love you”s exchanged underneath the moonlight. Kisses shared in the dark. Subtle glances in the middle of a sea of people. And faith.

Faith that in the end, everything will work out for them, because Jihoon loves him, and Woojin loves him back.

 

❉

 

 

“Dad, he’s here again. He’s here again,” the child whisper-shouts to his mother as he tugs on his shirt. “He’s back here again just like yesterday.”

He turns to who his son is pointing to, and sees a man in a suit that costs more than their year’s worth of wages, the crown adorned with rubies and sapphires sitting perfectly above his blond head. He watches as he makes his way towards the entrance of the gates slowly, hand holding a sceptre and the glow of the cascading sunset making him look more regal than usual.

The ninety-ninth king of Gridora aged like fine wine, the lines of the years evident in his face but the charm from his youth prominent still.

“Is he gonna wait there again, dad?”

The man shakes his head as he lifts up his son in his arms. “No, today is a different day, honey,” he tells him as he watches the royal guards take their positions, lining up at both sides of the entrance with their swords unsheathed halfway from their scabbards. He hears the trumpets being blown, and then the loud hit of the gong before the royal guards unsheathe their swords fully and raise them up in the air as they chant the royal mantra.

From the distance, the man can see the herd of horses making their way towards the entrance of the kingdom. From where he’s standing, he can see the smile making its way up the King’s lips. The man finds himself smiling too.

“They’re home. They’re home!” he hears a woman say from behind him. “The royal soldiers are home!”

The Kingdom of Gridora holds many secrets. Some shared by the Elders at the town square as stories spoken and sung, some whispered in the alleys and the corners of the palace grounds. And as he watches the man in battle gear leading the rest of the army behind him make his way towards the King waiting at the center of the entrance, the smile on his face wide and bright, he knows that their story is one out of the many secrets the people have yet to, or will never know.

The people of Gridora might think it’s only the soldiers sent off to the borders have found their way home, but to the few who knew, the few who have witnessed it even when nobody said a thing, there’s another one. Someone who’s also been waiting three hundred days to come home.

“Hey,” Woojin tells him, the same smile Jihoon has come to love more and more each year plastered on his face.

“Hi,” Jihoon lets out, barely audible. “Welcome home.”

 _You’re back home now too, Your Highness,_ the man thinks as he starts walking away from the crowd that had started to huddle to take a closer look at the soldiers that had just arrived. _Welcome home, sire._

“Daehwi,” he hears someone say behind him and he turns around to see Jinyoung carrying a basket filled with vegetables and fruits. Daehwi smiles at him. “Have you been waiting long? I’m sorry. This old lady was holding up the line, and I couldn’t just overtake her.”

Daehwi shakes his head, “Don’t worry. We weren’t waiting that long. Let’s go?”

Jinyoung starts to walk back towards the direction of their home, but Daehwi spares a moment to look back at the welcome parade happening behind him. He smiles when he sees the king’s arm on the general’s own.

Jihoon has stayed in Gridora the entire year, but he was never really home. His home wasn’t the palace grounds, nor was it anywhere in Gridora. Jihoon’s home was at the borders, fighting for his life. Jihoon’s home was a person, the person he had left his heart to, and seeing the bright smile on his face, Daehwi knows Jihoon is glad to be finally home.


End file.
